Galadriel's Gift
by LarienElengasse
Summary: Thranduil and Galadriel share a beautiful secret


Title: Galadriel's Gift  
  
Author: Larien Elengasse  
  
Type: FPS  
  
Pairing: Galadriel/Thranduil (implied)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Beta: Alex  
  
WARNING: None, other than there may be some fans of Celeborn that are upset with me after reading this.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien.  
  
Feedback: Yes please: larienelengasse@yahoo.com  
  
Summary/Notes: The identity of Legolas mother has been a secret for ages. This is my take on who it could have been.  
  
May 20, 3420, Second Age, River Anduin  
  
Galadriel sat quietly staring into the clear waters of the Anduin. The warm sun felt good upon her skin and the cool water felt good on her tired feet. It had been a long winter, and many hard, lonely months since she last saw her beloved Celeborn. She had been lonely, too lonely it seemed, as she caressed her swollen belly. She knew Celeborn could never learn of her weakness, he could never learn of her infidelity and illegitimate child. He was coming home soon, she had foreseen it, and the time had come to make a decision. She would give the child to its father to be raised and none of her family would ever know of its existence. She looked across the meadow to the tree line as she heard the familiar sound of thundering hooves. She felt a sharp kick to her ribs and she smiled, patting her belly, "Be still, little one, Ada is near." She rose from the rock as gracefully as she was able as she saw the massive black stallion gallop into the meadow. She smiled; her young lover was as beautiful as she remembered him being so many months ago. She raised her hand and he raised his, galloping toward her from the trees.  
  
Thranduil pulled his horse up and leapt from its back, stopping dead in his tracks as he gazed upon the Lady of Light. His mouth hung open in a very undignified manner as he stared with disbelieving eyes at his one time lover. He slowly strode across the field toward her as he tried to formulate words with his mouth. When he finally reached her, he stammered, "By Elbereth, you are with child, a'maelamin."  
  
She laughed, reaching out and caressing his face, "You have always had a talent for stating the obvious, meleth nín."  
  
Thranduil continued to stare at her wide-eyed, his glance travelling from her belly to her eyes and back again. He tentatively reached out with a shaky hand, "Is it.?"  
  
Galadriel raised an eyebrow, "Who else would it belong to?"  
  
He sank to his knees in front of her, softly placing his trembling hands on either side of her stomach, "I. I thought." He gently leaned in, placing his ear against her belly and wrapping his arms around her. He felt a sharp kick beneath his check and he looked up at her in surprise, "By the Valar, it is a strong laes!"  
  
She laughed, "Yes, you do not know the half of it, a'maelamin."  
  
He stood up and took her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers, "Why did you not tell me sooner? I could have helped you, I could have taken care of you."  
  
She laughed softly, "Oh I think you have already done enough of that, Thranduil."  
  
Thranduil looked into her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, "Galadriel, amin mela le, come live with me, raise our child with me."  
  
Galadriel's eyes clouded over with sadness, "I cannot, meleth nín. I am bound to Celeborn, I love him, we have two children together," she motioned for him to sit. "He is coming home soon. He cannot know what has passed between us, he cannot know of this child."  
  
He knew this would be her answer, but he still felt he had to ask the question. She had always been honest with him, he had always known where he stood with her. He held her hand in his, staring at her long delicate fingers and her alabaster skin. He looked up at her and quietly answered, "What can I do, a'maelamin? What can I do to ease this burden?"  
  
She caressed his face, she knew the Elf he was, she also knew the mistakes he was yet to make, but she was sure that he would love their child more than life; she was sure he would be a perfect father. She sighed, "My time is close, meleth nín, that is why I have come. I will give birth in Emyn- nu-Fuin, and I will leave the child with you to raise."  
  
Thranduil's eyes widened, "But, I. What do I know of being a father?"  
  
She smiled, "You know all you need to know, Thranduil. I know what is in your heart, you will love this child, and you will make a good father."  
  
Thranduil embraced her and knelt before her, placing his hands upon her belly and kissing it, "Amin hin," he whispered, "Can you ride?" he asked.  
  
She smiled, "Yes, slowly." She whistled for her horse and he helped her up on it. The pair left the meadow for the caves.  
  
May 20, 3420, Second Age, Emyn-nu-Fuin  
  
Thranduil paced nervously back and forth in front of the closed door. It had been a rough month, his father had been furious with him when he learned of his indiscretion, with Galadriel of all Elves. Now he waited, she was in with the healers, her labor started in the middle of the night as he slept curled beside her, his hand on her firm, round belly. His heart was in his throat and his hands were like ice; it was totally quiet on the other side of the door and he had no idea whether or not that was a good thing. There were never any females in the house, other than his father's many lovers, Thranduil's own mother had died during childbirth and he had never known her. As he stood with his forehead pressed against the cool stone wall, he heard the first squawking cry of the child. His hand flew to his chest and he shook like a leaf, "By the Valar, I am a father." he whispered.  
  
The door opened and the healer bade him enter, he crossed the threshold on shaky legs to see Galadriel sitting up in bed holding the infant and smiling at him, "He has your eyes, and your temper."  
  
Thranduil sat beside her on the bed, his eyes welling up with tears as he beheld the small bundle of pure beauty in her arms. He croaked, "A son, I have a son."  
  
She smiled and caressed his face, "Yes, you do, a'maelamin, and he is as strong and beautiful as you are."  
  
He looked up at her through the veil of tears that clouded his eyes, tears of pure joy. She handed his son to him and he cradled him in his strong arms, caressing his tiny cheek with one finger. "He is so small, so fragile," he whispered.  
  
She smiled, "He is stronger than you know, Thranduil. He will be a great Prince and warrior one day," she felt warm inside, watching him hold his son, watching the love pour from his heart into each touch and caress he gave the tiny child. She knew she was right, she knew he would love his son above all others and she took great comfort in that. She caressed the Prince's face, "He needs a name, a'maelamin."  
  
He looked into the tiny face of his new born son and the small child reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, knotting it in his hand. "Legolas," he whispered, "my little greenleaf."  
  
She nodded, "Legolas, a fitting name for a woodland Prince." She sighed and slid back into the bed, "Would you take him a'maelamin? I am quite tired."  
  
He lay next to her in the bed, still holding the child, "I will never let him go, meleth nín."  
  
She rolled to her side, placing her head on his shoulder and falling asleep.  
  
June 16, 3421, Second Age, Mirkwood  
  
Thranduil lay on his side in the tall grass, twirling a willow frond in between his fingers above his son's head. Legolas stretched, balancing precariously on his toes, reaching for the branch that hung just out of reach. The small Elfling reached and grunted, then fell back to his bottom in the soft grass, reaching out for his father and giggling. Thranduil laughed, dipping the willow frond down and brushing it across his son's face. "Ada!" the child yelled. Thranduil rolled forward and kissed his son on the nose, "Iôn," he chuckled. The child pointed at his father's bow and quiver, "Bow!" he exclaimed. Thranduil looked over his shoulder and smiled. He looked back at his son, who had risen to his feet again, walking unsteadily toward him, still pointing at the bow, "My bow!" Thranduil laughed reaching over and handing the large bow to his son. He watched in amazement as he held the bow and Legolas grasped the string with both hands pulling with all his tiny might. The string quivered before he lost his grip, tumbling backward into the soft grass. Thranduil's eyes widened as he waited to see if the child would cry. Legolas struggled back to his feet, placing his tiny hands on his head, "Ow." He said quietly. Thranduil laughed softly and drew his son into his arms, kissing the top of his small blonde head. "It is too big, Iôn, but one day soon you will learn to shoot it." Legolas grasped the bow in his hands, "Too big." He said somewhat sadly then turned to his father, "Amin mela le, Ada."  
  
Tears welled in Thranduil's eyes, it was the first real phrase his son had used that he had not repeated back to him. "Amin mela le, my little greenleaf," he whispered, placing a kiss upon his son's head.  
  
October 15th, 3430, Second Age, Mirkwood  
  
"I do not understand, Ada! Why do you have to go? Why do I have to stay here?" Tears flowed from Legolas' eyes as he looked at his father.  
  
Thranduil hung his head, fighting back the tears in his own eyes, "It is war, Iôn, it is my duty to our kin. I do not want to leave you, Legolas."  
  
"Then let me go. I can ride, I can shoot a bow as well as any of Grandfather's soldiers! Please, Ada, do not leave me behind!" Legolas clutched at his father's sleeve.  
  
"I cannot take you, Iôn. You are too young; I cannot risk anything happening to you. Please, Legolas, do not make this harder than it already is."  
  
Legolas wrapped his arms around his father, clinging to him, "What if you do not come back? What if you go to be with Nana? I am afraid, Ada, I am afraid you will not come back."  
  
Thranduil looked down at his young son, caressing his face and staring into his cloudy blue eyes. He ran his fingers through his long flaxen hair and wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. "I promise you, Iôn, I will come back. I will not leave you."  
  
Thranduil spent his last night in Mirkwood sleeping with his son in his arms, praying to the Valar that he would see him again.  
  
August 12, 3441, End of the Second Age, Mirkwood  
  
Legolas sat astride his horse looking down at the pile of Orc carcasses on the ground. The young Elf Prince looked up at the troops and sighed. It seemed the last three years of his life had been spent riding patrol and slaying Orcs. He still did not know if his father and grandfather were alive or dead, having had no word. His heart ached for his father, he missed him so much. He had heard tell that the Alliance were hard pressed but was making headway. If they did not succeed all of Middle Earth would be in peril. He was still young, but he felt old. He was forced to act as an adult since he was the only member of the royal family at home and he had to perform the duties of his father and grandfather upon the instruction of their advisors.  
  
One of his kin whistled from the trees indicating there was someone approaching, he shouted down, "It is Prince Thranduil!"  
  
Legolas shouted "Where?"  
  
The Elf pointed toward the great road and Legolas took off at a dead run on his horse, jumping brush and rocks as he went. As he reached the clearing near the road, he saw his father astride his black stallion with only about a third of the contingent he and his grandfather left with. Thranduil rode with his head bowed, a look of profound sadness and loss on his face that his son could not see.  
  
"Ada!" Legolas shouted as he leapt from his horse and began running toward his father.  
  
Thranduil looked up and saw his son, now ten years older, running toward him. He halted his horse and hopped down, running to meet his son in the middle of the road. He took him up in his arms, pressing his face into his hair and swinging him around, "Legolas, Iôn. By Elbereth, I have missed you. Look at how much you have grown."  
  
Legolas pulled back from his father's embrace and saw the sadness in his eyes, "Ada? What is it? What happened?"  
  
Tears began to flow from Thranduil's eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure, "Your Grandfather is gone, Legolas. He fell in battle at the Black Gate."  
  
Legolas reached up and caressed his father's face, "Oh, Ada, I am sorry. I am so sorry." He took his father in his arms and held him tight. Oropher had never grown close to Legolas; he had never truly accepted him although he had been kind. Legolas did not feel his loss like Thranduil did.  
  
The father and son remounted their horses and rode home. It would be the last time Thranduil returned from being gone from the wood for many years.  
  
Epilogue  
  
Legolas Greenleaf grew to be a strong and noble Prince and an important member of the Fellowship of the Ring. He performed several brave deeds in war and grew to be close friends with Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunited Realms of Gondor and Arnor. Legolas remained in Middle Earth after the downfall of Sauron and the destruction of the One Ring, traveling with his friend Gimli and returning home on several occasions to visit his beloved Father. He never knew who his mother was, always believing she died when he was born. He crossed over the sea in the year 120 of the Fourth Age, after the death of his good friend Elessar. Thranduil remained in Middle Earth, ruling his kingdom, which was renamed Eryn Lasgalen. He crossed over the sea shortly after his son, in the year 130. Galadriel never regretted her decision to leave Legolas with his father, and she loved him from afar all his life. She crossed over the sea in the year 3021 of the Third Age, and was joined by her beloved husband in the year 135 of the Fourth Age.  
  
Elvish = English Translation:  
  
Laes = babe  
  
A'maelamin = beloved  
  
Meleth nin = my love  
  
Amin hin = my child  
  
Ada = Father  
  
Amin mela le = I love you  
  
Ion = Son 


End file.
